


when the sun rises silver

by harukatenoh



Category: Transversal (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Flirting, Rain, Soft Flirting, but like soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 08:43:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21353434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harukatenoh/pseuds/harukatenoh
Summary: It's not Rita's fault she sometimes makes bad decisions regarding her own health, not when they lead to such good results.
Relationships: Cell/Rita Eiu
Kudos: 2





	when the sun rises silver

**Author's Note:**

> love u beane mwah
> 
> read transversal hoes https://transversal-comic.tumblr.com/
> 
> work title from heavy weather by billie marten

“It's raining,” Rita says. It’s a comment and an observation and an expression of love all in one. Cell, standing beside her, turns her eyes to the glass door in front of them. True to Rita’s words, there’s rain pouring down in steady sheets outside, accompanied by the whistling wind.

“That it is,” Cell responds. 

Rita looks over at her, taking in the jacket around her shoulders and the stockings under her skirt with a grimace. Rita herself is now all too aware of her thin t-shirt and shorts, a pitiful opponent to the weather outside. 

“You knew this was going to happen,” Rita says, voice bordering on reproachful. Cell turns to her with a smile and a knowing glint in her eyes. 

“Naturally,” Cell replies. There’s just enough teasing in her tone for Rita to narrow her eyes, waiting for the follow-up. It comes in the form of an amused “I checked the weather forecast.”

Rita breathes out a laugh. She had meant to check, like she had meant to eat breakfast and wake up early and walk to school, before she had stayed up until two am arguing with Laur about the English homework they had been given. Laur has a knack of disrupting her plans, when she doesn’t sabotage herself first.

“I brought an umbrella.” Cell’s voice is gentle, a contrast to the harsh greys of the world outside. She reaches into her bag and pulls out an obnoxiously bright umbrella. It’s yellow and blue striped and looks straight out of a lifestyle magazine advertisement, and Rita automatically hates it. Then, Cell props it up onto her shoulder, and all the darkness leaves Rita.

Cell, from underneath the umbrella, grins. Rita thinks longingly of the plain black umbrella she keeps hanging from her bedroom door and smiles back at Cell.

“We can share,” Cell says, offering Rita the handle. Rita takes it, the grip still warm from where Cell had been holding it. She can’t quite hold back the smile at the lingering warmth, even if she now bears the burden of this paint-palette umbrella.

It’s all very Cell, a splash of colour among the grey, a flicker of warmth through the cold.

Rita pushes open the door, unable to stop the shiver that goes through her as the wind rushes through. It abates a little at the touch of Cell’s hand to her arm, a soft grip around her forearm that serves to remind Rita that Cell is there, her presence not yet dulled by the hanging clouds or exhaustion in Rita’s vision.

Cell’s umbrella is small. It fits her perfectly, but Rita is a different matter altogether, and they’re forced to stay closer together than usual. Rita doesn’t mind it all too much; she can learn to live with the way Cell sometimes steps on the back of her feet as long as it’s being traded for her sugar drop apologies. She can learn to live with how Cell purposefully steps in every puddle as long as she gets to hear Cell’s clear, resounding laughter in return.

Rita almost misses it when the rain stops. She’s too busy watching Cell, and her scientist’s mind fails her. Her hypothesis-test-observation-results heartbeat has started to skip, landing on _observe_ and _smile_ and _memorize_ and _observe_ _again._ What clues her in is the loss of the backdrop to Cell’s footsteps, the rain’s constant patter no longer accompanying feather-light feet. 

Cell doesn’t falter at the loss of the rain; no, she decisively stops in the middle of the footpath and lets the last few drops catch her. 

Rita swears she can see the sun come out as Cell, hands in pockets, smiles at her, inhaling deeply the already settling scent of a storm broken.

Rita doesn’t feel the cold anymore, despite the wind still blowing and the chill of rain still hanging in the air. Eyes still on Cell, she asks “Are you cold?”

“No,” Cell replies, laughing. _ “I, _ for one, dressed appropriately. Are you cold?”

“Nope,” Rita says in reply, drawing out the no so that it’s obvious she’s lying. Cell laughs again.

“Liar,” she teases. “You’re turning blue.”

Rita, heart between her teeth and bleeding into her eyes, says “Come warm me up, then,” and Cell rolls her eyes. She walks over to Rita, a reprimanding look on her face, as if to say _only this once, Rita Eiu, will I indulge your absent-mindedness. _Rita doesn’t know how she reads all of that off of one expression, but maybe she knows Cell better than she thought.

Cell takes the umbrella and closes it. The sun falls onto Rita’s skin, drapes itself over her and Cell like a cape, a crown.

Cell takes Rita’s hand and swings it between them, once, twice. They walk all the way home like that.


End file.
